


The Wordsmith

by Amy_the_Asgardian



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Gen, loki's random bitching about things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-05
Updated: 2013-12-07
Packaged: 2018-01-03 13:28:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1071011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amy_the_Asgardian/pseuds/Amy_the_Asgardian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I can tell any lie, and have you believe it. I can twist your words– manipulate you in the highest fashion, throw your words right back in your face– and you’ll believe every bit of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

I can tell any lie, and have you believe it. I can twist your words– manipulate you in the highest fashion, throw your words right back in your face– and you’ll believe every bit of it. Every smirk, every unfaltering smile, the movements of my hands as I speak– you will believe them. Without question, without fault– you will believe every word that passes between my lips.

         That is the curse of a wordsmith, is it not? Words; phrases, sentences, quotes, anything of the like– they are my greatest weapons. I can bring you to your knees with one sentence; have you begging for mercy with another. Words, I think, are a greater weapon than any man’s sword. Swords can leave painful, bleeding wounds– yes, I know, I’ve been there before, multiple times– but words? Oh, they are so much worse. In time you’ll get over the wound, as everyone does, but you will always remember the painful sting of my words– the way I called you out on your every fear, every weakness; the way I manipulated you into believing you were worth less than scum, no more than the filth beneath my boots. It’s a wonderful thing, really– to be so much in control over others that you are feared not for how you handle a sword or a dagger, but for how you form a sentence– the cadence of your voice, the way you word a phrase, the way you pronounce each individual syllable... it _truly_ is a beautiful thing. 


	2. Chapter 2

Now, some may call me sadistic– evil, even– but _really_ , am I? I haven’t _truly_ harmed anyone; it isn’t like I’ve run them through with a blade– I’ve simply spoken to them. Just said a sentence or two and watched them run, trembling in fear. How is that evil? I’ve just tried to speak to them, really... it’s such a crying shame when one can’t even hold a simple conversation with another because they’re afraid of what you might say to them. Such a pity... it’d be nice to have more friends.

         However, things were once different. I’ve not always been this way– truly. I imagine that’s very hard to believe, coming from a... deity of lies and chaos, of sorts– but now I speak nothing but the truth. When I was a boy– not a mother’s boy, mind you; I’ve _always_ tried to stand for myself– I was kinder. Well, not exactly the nicest person in the world, per say, but much kinder than I am now. I didn’t try to actively manipulate others, it just happened. I would open my mouth, and hateful words would come out. Back then; it was just the way things were.

         Since then, things have changed. I’ve... learned things about myself– things that should have been explained to me long, long ago– and I will never be as kind as I used to be. It would be utterly impossible. _Norns_ , could you even expect one to be the same after learning their true heritage? After learning they were adopted– stolen, really, but I’ll not go into detail, not today, not _ever_ – and kept elsewhere as a child of royalty, but only to be used as a sort of peace treaty? Kept as a _monster_ , a _novelty,_ pulled out of its delicate box when time came to show it off and stored away when unwanted– when it was no longer new and shiny and interesting? Oh, no, I’ll never be the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry the chapters are so short– but honestly, I'd rather post it as separate chapters rather than all at once. Hope you guys enjoy it!


	3. Chapter 3

Some say love changes people. That it can make you whole; make you what you used to be. They’re _wrong._ Love is for children; for those poor, ignorant souls who have no concept of what the world truly is. In a world full of destruction, filth, and hatred, love is nothing more than an impossible anomaly. It’s nothing but child’s play; a small figment of the imagination to make the world seem much better than it appears to be. _Oh,_ they’ll say, _you’ve never felt love before; you’ve no clue what it’s like. You’re simply a jealous man who’s never known a woman’s true love._ Oh, how wrong they are. At some point, we’ve all felt love; have we not? We’ve all felt the pang of desire, the short-lived feeling of lust– but compared to a lifetime, it’s _nothing._ I’ve been married before, yes– but just as everything else in my life was deemed necessary for a political purpose, so was this marriage. Thankfully the girl was pretty­– it would have been _dreadful_ to marry a hag. As was the fashion in those times, the marriage had to be consummated, and soon after she bore me two sons– twin boys with shining black hair like mine, and eyes that were as bright as... as their mother’s. They were so– _no._ I can’t. I can’t talk about them. I won’t make myself remember the way their mother tore them from my arms– she left me, as I’d expected her to, and took my sons with her. _My_ sons. _My_ twin boys. They were just as much my children as they were hers, and she took it upon herself– the filthy harlot she is– to take them and leave me with nothing but fleeting memories of their smiles and the laughter that always seemed to fill whichever room they occupied. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's another teeny chapter! As always, feedback is welcome!


	4. Chapter 4

‘Why’d she leave you?’They’d ask. ‘What did you do to her this time?’They’d whisper under their breaths as I passed by.  I did _nothing._ I only tried to speak to her; to make friends with the girl I was made to marry– and eventually, like all those around me, she ran. Became afraid of my words, and ran for her life. The poor girl should have known what she was getting herself into– she knew whom she was marrying. I tried to warn her, but _no._ Don’t listen to the _wordsmith;_ he speaks nothing but _lies._ That’s my curse, isn’t it? To always be thought a liar even when I’m screaming the truth. It all comes full circle, wouldn’t you agree? The monster speaks the truth, and the common folk run for their lives. I could cry out the truth a thousand times and no one– not a soul– would ever believe me. They couldn’t if they tried.

         Why?

         I am the monster parents tell their children about at night. I am the fleeting sense of fear you have when you’re walking alone at nightfall– the force that makes you feel as if the hairs on the back of your neck are standing on end. I am the momentary sense of terror that makes you want to run home as fast as you can for fear of being harmed in the back alley of the street you just walked past. I am the bringer of truth– but the speaker of lies.

         I am Loki, the wordsmith. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is it! Hope you guys enjoyed it!

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed this teensy little chapter!
> 
> I wrote this as part of a final for one of my classes, and figured I'd post it here. Be warned, though– it's not exact to the mythology, as I had to change a bit up in order for it to be acceptable for the class(so please don't scream too harshly at me). 
> 
> I hope you'll enjoy the rest of it, as well! Feedback is always welcome!


End file.
